Moving On
by The Omniscient Bookseller
Summary: A year or two after the strike, David is at college. Contains slash.


Not mine.

Ha! I wrote something! It's not really angst (wow…mark the date, someone) but it's slash. Of strange, strange pairings. I think maybe I am the inventor of David/- wait….I'd better not tell you. Just read it.

~*~

__

Heya Mouth,

Howre things? You doing good up at the uneversity? We all miss you. Come visit soon if you can. Its fine if not. Is it hard there? Do you like the people?

Kid and Skittry ran into the Delancys today. The came back a little hurt, but good. Oscar and Morris aren't.

Good headline today. Hope the afternoon is, too. Have to go- selling again. Trying to eat Swifty to Central Park. Come back soon!

-Mush KB X (Dutchy) Specs X (Swifty)

X (Slider) Jack Kelly X(Snipes) PIE EATER

Snitch X_ (Bumlets) Skitt Flips _

X (Boots) ITEY X (Racetrack)

I resisted the urge to crumple the letter and hug it to me like a child with a blankie. Instead, I laid it aside and continued sifting through the contents of a small box sitting in the middle of my crowded room. It contained all my memories from the strike and from being a newsie. I shifted aside the pitifully small stack of letter that we had stopped exchanging something like six months ago and pulled out my copy of that one newspaper article, that one picture I had. I leaned back against my bed, ignoring the frame digging into my side as I scanned the familiar faces.

The first one that jumped out at me was Jack. Jack. He was the first one I saw back in '99, too. There's still a reaction to his face, though not as much as there used to be. Even now, I can't deny what I saw in him from the first. Never mind the fact that he's so…so…I don't have a word for it. Not really handsome or cute or beautiful or whatever. Never mind that sometimes I felt like I could've sat in a corner and stared at him all day. There was something besides that. Something about him, in his manner. He was so sure of himself, so secure in who he was. And he had good reason, too. He was charismatic, I suppose you could say. Professor Barnston would be proud of my vocabulary. There really isn't a word in the entire English language to describe him, though. Jack. He was just Jack. And I loved him, in my own way.

And then there was Racetrack. The second newsie I had a crush on. That one was worse, in a sense. I didn't like him immediately, like I had with Jack. I think Jack was because of his looks, mostly, and his manner. It took me a few weeks until I really got to know Race- not that I talked to him much. Just watched. See, the reason I had a crush on Race was because of what was inside, not what was outside. He was just such a genuinely sweet guy. You could tell how much he cared about his friends. I remember wishing, over and over, that I was one of them. 

"Hey, Dave, you in there?" someone pounded on my door. "We're goin' into town, wanna come?" I dropped the newspaper clipping back into the box and shoved it aside.

"Just a second!" I stuffed my feet into socks and shoes, quickly glanced in the mirror, and headed out. There were three boys standing outside- Nick and Jared, roommates down the hall from me, and Collin, a boy I knew only slightly from classes. Nick slung an arm around my shoulders just like Jack used to do, and producing the exact same reaction. As we headed downstairs, my thoughts returned to the box under my bed. Maybe I would write a letter- just a short one, nothing much, to see how they all were doing. I'd been about to do it. But I knew I probably never would. I didn't need Jack and Race anymore; I had someone else. I didn't feel like I needed the newsies anymore. They were nothing but a memory. We had gone our separate ways, and now the course of my life was taking shape in front of me. 

I could write that letter tomorrow, I thought, as we descended to the street.

Yes. I'd do it tomorrow. 

~*~

So what'd you think? Not exactly my usual. Davey, for one, and no angst, for another. 

*lightbulb* Hey…I just had an idea! Maybe I can continue this story. That'd be interesting. What do you think? Should I? *points at review button* tell me! And if you think I should, hows about giving me an idea for a plot?

*Dutchy!muse comes out of nowhere with a Beginner's Guide to Plot Spotting and binoculars* Dutchy!muse: A plot? Where?!

Ok, I'll be going now, before this gets stranger….


End file.
